Åɢᴏʀᴀᴘʜöʙɪᴀ
by FyreMyst
Summary: Agoraphobia: The fear of open spaces or lack of cover. A short-story, one-shot, one-chapter-story whatever you call them these days. I think you'll like it, so I'm going to share it. - Fixed version, now with correct time breaks. Sorry for the confusion! -
1. Agoraphobia

**{{ Sorry if you saw this within the first ten minutes with all that ugly coding. . Fixed it. }}**

I pulled back, hard. My claws scrabbled for a hold is the dry soil as I tried to tug a small bundle of dark grey fur out of the dark hole that was the nursery. Although the kit weighed little more than a small hare, a passion greater than my will to pull him out had grasped the tiny tom in its foul claws and helped to pull him deeper into the darkness. The kit screeched as if a fox had him by the scruff instead of his own mother as I battled to show him the outside world. I could feel the Clans' gaze burning holes in my back and hissed angrily, releasing my jaws and allowing the kit to race back into the depths of the nursery. "Fine!" I snarled, embarrassment driving me to rage as I was forced to crawl back into the darkness after him.

Seething, I wriggled through the warren of tunnels until I found my own small cavern by scent, my eyes next to useless in the looming darkness. In what little illumination there was, I could see Pinekit's dark grey fur as a lighter smudge against the blackness of the sandy walls, shaking and quivering as sobs ran through his small body. My anger dissolved out of the judgmental eyes of the other cats, and I padded over to Pinekit, curling my body protectively around his fragile body. Pity welled up in my chest, making my breathing tight as I lay there, a living shield to my son's fears. _He is just scared; how can I be angry at my own son for having fear?_

"I-it's scary- being out- in the open. No where to- hide or... or..." Pinekit mewed between gasps, the fear almost tangible in his voice. Dutifully, I agreed, trying my best to comfort and calm him, but honestly, I couldn't feel what Pinekit found unbearable about the openness of the camp. Not a single bit. WindClan cats were supposed to enjoy the open spaces the moorland provides and most -including myself- were instead terrified of being enclosed.

"It's not really as bad as it looks," I said softly. Not exactly knowing how to put into words what it meant to be a WindClan cat, living and breathing the open moor.

"No, it's worse!" Pinekit argued, the firmness in his voice silencing me. My mouth stood hanging agape, trying to find what I could say to save my son from the pain he would go through if this irrational fear continued, but I could not. His fear was too instinctual, too deep-rooted for me to fend off with a couple of words.  
Instead I could only mew: "Maybe. Maybe it is." There wasn't anything I could do. My son was different. Maybe that wouldn't be such a bad thing.

* * *

"Please, please is there nothing you can do? He's in pain! Aren't medicine cats supposed to be able to fix pain? Isn't that your job?" I meowed frantically.

The silver-furred tom frowned. "Nothing, Jadeflower, nothing. There isn't anything wrong, so there isn't anything I can fix. It's a fear; a phobia. Pinekit can't stand being out in the open. He has an especially bad case of it, but that doesn't make it any more treatable. He might grow out of it, might not. I can't help him."

My heart fell. _My kit, my son... be strong, and learn to be okay,_ I pleaded, looking to the sky, _StarClan, help him!_ But my desperate plea fell upon deaf ears, for the sun had blotted out Silverpelt, leaving the sky devoid of the ancestors in the stars. I wished Pinekit's fear was something physical, something I could rip my claws into, violently and brutally killing it as I watched it die with pleasure. But I couldn't; I couldn't do _anything_.

* * *

I watched intently from across the camp clearing as Pinepaw made his way to the fresh-kill pile. Everything about him showed of fear: his eyes darted nervously side-to-side, his tail hung low, ears pressed to his skull, fur bristling and breathing ragged. I had to close my eyes in order to prevent myself from running out and shepherding him back to the nursery tunnels where he felt safe. The urges were overwhelming; the only thing that kept me back was the knowledge that Pinepaw wouldn't have wanted that. The Clan wouldn't have wanted that. So I waited and watched. I never told him how his Clanmates would laugh as soon as he disappeared into his den.

* * *

"Useless, absolutely and utterly useless! I know why you chose me as his mentor, Swiftstar, most wouldn't have lasted this long with him. I was patient, but after two moons even I have to admit he'll never be a warrior, even a bad one," a feathery soft voice echoed out of the leader's rock. I stopped as if I had run into a wall, my ears perked as I listened in. I knew I would be in trouble for eavesdropping if I was caught, but I also knew these two cats were discussing the fate of Pinepaw. _My kit..._

A sigh. "I know; I've been keeping an eye on him as well. But my paws are tied! Stormtail is deputy for StarClan's sake, and Jadeflower is one of the best warriors we have. I can't toss their only son out without angering half of the Clan. Not about Pinepaw himself, but for what he stands for: the kin of the elite. How would they be able to stand it? It'll only show how little we care for the ranks of our warriors, and create distress where there is no need for it. How could they ensure the safety of their own litters, knowing how easily we threw out one of such high status? No, he must stay unless he leaves of his own accord."

"What about being a medicine cat? He would never have to leave his den and another cat could gather the herbs."

"We already _have_ a medicine cat. Two in fact, now that Yewwing has claimed her full name."

"Then tell me what we can do. We both know well enough that he's never going to be any help come leaf-bare, and having a cat with such great a fear -especially one of that nature- is an embarrassment to all of WindClan. Something must be done, Swiftstar, your problems aren't going to fade away with the winds."

Silence.

"I'll think of something," the leader's low voice finally echoed out, barely over a whisper.

"Good."

I heard rustling start from inside the small cave and quickly whipped around, sprinting out of camp and hoping my pooled scent would fade enough before the two cats exited the den.

* * *

I padded out from the low warrior's den, glad to be outside. The smell of rain was fragrant in the air, whispering of fresh growth and the promise of a warm day. "Jadeflower! Join our patrol," Redfang yowled from across camp. I acknowledged his offer and swiftly trotted over to the fiery red tom. Pinepaw, now an elder apprentice, cowered beside the tall cat, looking smaller than ever even when he was almost full grown. My heart fluttered; even now I could still feel the mothering urge to protect him as strong as I had when he was a kit.

Instead, I forced myself to act normal, as if Pinepaw were just another warrior. "Hunting?" I asked, and the red tom nodded. He turned and started out of camp, Pinepaw hard on his heels hanging low as if something were about to fling itself out at any second. _It was true_, I supposed. _But we can always scent or see it long before_, another side of me rationalized. I shrugged to myself and took up the rear as we left camp, trying to avert my eyes from Pinepaw's pitiful walk, but always finding my gaze shifting back no matter how hard I tried.

"Here seems good; no one's had a patrol here in a couple sun-rises, I don't believe." But even before he stopped speaking, Pinepaw was off. A streak of grey, the tom ran across the moors as if he could outrun his fears. Redfang grunted, rolled his eyes, and turned the opposite way before scenting the air. I had never been on patrol with Pinepaw before -probably to keep me from seeing him as to believe, somehow, things might be better, as if- but from watching Redfang, I could see this was what Pinepaw usually did on patrol. I frowned, disturbed by his behaviour.

_It isn't right. He shouldn't have to live like this,_ I thought, my mind still on my son even as I began to follow Redfang through the hunt. But as when he was a small kit, I knew I couldn't do a single thing to help.

* * *

"Pinepaw, from this moment forward you will be known as Pinefoot. StarClan honors your heritage and fleet-footedness and welcome you as a full member of WindClan." I watched as Pinefoot inched his way forward, reaching out high to touch Swiftstar's tall shoulder before ducking back low to a crouch. Even as the massive tom he grew up to be, the open space still terrified him. He tilted his head up and for a split moment, our eyes connected. I could see the ever-present fear was gone, replaced by a burning pride. I yowled his name even louder. _That was my son._

* * *

A loud bout of laughter echoed out from the tunnel systems, very out of place in the silent sun-high, green-leaf camp where everyone that didn't have to be on was sleeping out the heat. I stood up and padded out of my patch of shade over to the entrance, curious to who could be in the empty den. "Pinefoot?" I gasped as my eyes adjusted to the gloom, where I could see his familiar dark grey fur. I crouched and squeezed into the small hole, emerging in the tiny, but still sizeable, cavern beneath.

I moved away from the light so that a pair of sunbeams dropped through the hole, providing a little more light for me to see by. In front of me was a completely new cat; Pinefoot was nothing like the weak cat he was aboveground. His deep emerald eyes shone brightly with a new found confidence I had never seen in him before. Secure in the enclosed cavern, I could easily see what he could have become if it weren't for that StarClan forsaken phobia; stronger than his father, faster than Swiftstar and a leader the Clan could follow to the ends of the Earth.

I must have looked dumbfounded, for Pinefoot smiled -the first time I had seen him smile-, lighting up his face just like Stormtail's did. I fell in love with that smile. Then everything was motion and we rushed together, a mass of fur and tongues and tails and purrs. "Pinefoot! Oh, Pinefoot! I- I wish could see you like this always. You could've been the best warrior in the Clans..." my voice faded as I realized I had spoken what Pinefoot had probably wanted to hear the least: what could have been.

"I cannot change who I am, mother," he mewed softly, his tone sad and regretful. I blinked, shocked at how deep his voice was. He had hardly spoken a word above, and he had changed so much.

"I-"

"Pinefoot! Patrol!"

"Coming!" he yowled back, grimacing. He pushed his way back through the tunnel, his paws unsteady. I whimpered as I was forced to watch as he transformed from the confident, strong cat he really was into the trembling freak he appeared to be to every cat else. At the entrance, he turned one last time, shooting me a forced smile before the fear and pain overwhelmed him and he was gone, only a weak shell standing where my son once stood.

* * *

Jaws snapped at my throat and I yelped, pushing up with my paws. The action was ineffective however, as little power was left in my paws. I hissed feebly, the noise more of a raspy cough than a fierce battle cry. Sickness had ravaged the Clan, and, like many others, I was still weak from battling greencough. A fox attack was the last thing WindClan needed, but here it was, and every cat able to stand on their paws was needed to fight.

I heard yowls all around me, but none close enough to come to my aid. The yellow fangs snapped down again, gripping fur, not flesh, as I managed to kick the head away from my exposed underside. My paws were lodged in the vixen's neck, and however hard she tried, I was able to lift it high enough so her fangs couldn't get to me. But my muscles were weak from laying in a nest the last half-moon, and soon they started to tremble, threatening to give way any heartbeat, releasing the beast behind them.

I felt a cat's paws shove me out from under the fox, followed by a hiss and a bark. I lay there, whimpering and winded as I tried desperately to shove air back into my uncooperative, raw lungs enough to fuel my legs once again. Yowls of pain and rage echoed from the battle pitted between my rescuer and the fox, but I still wasn't able to stand and the cat had led the fox away from me behind my back. Then a bone-chilling howl erupted followed by the thundering of paws as more warriors poured into the scene.

By the time I had made it to my paws, the fox was crashing its way through the gorse barrier out of camp. I sighed, relieved, until my eyes found a lump of grey fur and, beyond, the yawning blackness of the nursery tunnels. Slowly, my exhausted brain put the pieces together: the paws, the scream, the fur, the tunnels and now the crimson... "Pinefoot!" I yowled, throwing myself over the ground towards my son, my mind devoid of all thoughts.

The large tom lifted his head as I approached, watching as I settled myself to frantically looking about his body for a wound. "Protect the Clan, mum," he mewed softly, so soft I could barely hear him. "I couldn't, but you - you can, mother."

My vision blurred as I looked into Pinefoot's deep green eyes, not seeing anything, my mind blank with pain. "No. No! Yewwing! Silverberry! Help! Over here, help! Pinefoot, you'll be okay. See, we'll get you healed, you'll be fine-"

"Mother," Pinefoot mewed, cutting me short. I looked over to him, shocked out of my frantic panic. He gave me a crooked smile, his voice dropping to a whisper. "I'm. Not. Scared."

* * *

**{{ Here it is. Leave a comment if you enjoyed and wish to see more of these short stories. Follow/fav me to see more of my writing. Yeah, that's about it. Hope you liked it as much as I did! }}**


	2. Apologies

So sorry! I hadn't noticed the time skip dashed breaks were removed when I copied this over, and just reread and saw how confusing this was without them! Added in breaks compatible with fanfiction Doc format now, and hopefully this will make it easier to see and differentiate the many time skips in this piece. So sorry, and it's ll fixed now!


	3. More fixes

Fixed even more things. This time typos and structure, some of those sentences were poor. Anyways, still one of my favorite shorts, and I can't help but love revisiting them every once in a while. Pulling this back as to let others enjoy it too. cx


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